


Consequences

by happydaygirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Dean, Born under a bad sign, Captured, Hurt Sam, Protective Dean, Revenge, Season 2, Tag, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4783649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happydaygirl/pseuds/happydaygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to Born Under a Bad Sign. Two weeks after Sam's possession, the boys are finishing a job just outside Sioux Falls. They plan to spend a last night in their motel before heading off for another job- until they get jumped. Now they're in the hands of some angry hunters who want revenge for their dead friend, and they don't want to listen to reason... hurt!Sam, bamf!Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consequences

The rain patterned a beat onto the hood of the Impala as Dean sat in the driver's seat, humming along to a Metallica tune as he waited for Sam to get back. Rivers of water cascaded down the windshield, making the orange light from the streetlight look jagged and foggy at the same time. Dean was racing the drops as they slipped down the glass, before he stopped as he realised he was getting a little too much joy out of drops of water. He decided to do some more work, instead-A crash of thunder made the elder Winchester look up from his newspaper, arching an eyebrow as the rain fell harder. He circled a probable case- a woman claiming she'd been attacked by a guy with two heads and blue eyes- in thick red pen before folding it up and stowing it away in the backseat. Cases had been few and far between these past couple days, and he was starting to itch with boredom.

He looked down at the illuminated clock on his dash. 12.17 AM, it read in green letters. He sighed and turned on the ignition as the windows started steaming over, grateful for the heat from the blowers as he turned them to full blast.

'Come on Sammy,' he groaned, rolling his eyes. 'How long does it take?' He sat back and looked round at the inhabitants of the small town just outside Brandon in South Dakota. It looked pretty easy going; nothing kooky going on... Which was why Dean had decided they were going to leave as soon as possible. So far he'd seen an old man walking a dog, two ladies trying not to fall over in heels in the rain, and some kids peering into the darkened windows of a comic book shop, probably thinking of what they'd buy in the morning. A pair of teens walked by, hand in hand as they made their way home from the cinema down the road, and as the minutes ticked by, Dean was itching to get back to their motel for some rest before they hit the road again. A peal of unexpected thunder startled him, making him jolt his arm against his seat. The bullet wound on his shoulder, healing annoyingly slowly, flared in pain, making Dean feel a little sick. 'Damn it…' he whispered to himself, rolling his shoulder a little. He had had to stop himself reacting to any pain associated with it when he was around Sam, because every time he did he'd catch the guy looking at him with a sad look in his eyes, and he'd had to reassure him that everything was fine. He couldn't face the guilt in his brother's eyes again, even though it wasn't his fault.

The door opened to his side, and he turned to see Sam folding himself into the passenger seat, arms laden with bags. 'You get it?' He asked, voice full of hope.

Sam arched an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face. 'You'd think I'd come back if I didn't?' He replied.

'Sometimes I don't know with you...'

'Relax Dean, I got it...' Sam muttered, handing his older brother a bag, in which emanated a now familiar smell of grease and artery clogging fat.

'Ahh, perfect...!' Dean moaned with glee as he tore at the white plastic. 'Extra onions?' He shot at his brother before he took a bite.

'As usual..' Sam muttered in a resigned tone as he watched his brother take a big bite of his turkey burger. 'You know, you could try a salad one time?'

The look Dean gave him should have killed him, Sam reasoned. 'Or...not.' He added, opening the packet to his BLT sandwich and taking a bite. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the music, before Sam cleared his throat.

'You know, we haven't visited Bobby for a while,' he started, shrugging at his brother as Dean gave him a look.

'No, it's too early.' He replied, wiping his mouth of the grease and melted cheese that had accumulated at the corners.

'Dean, it's been two weeks.'

'I'm telling you it's not long enough, Sammy,' Dean muttered, 'People like that don't stop looking after two weeks.' He threw his burger wrapper into the backseat and settled in for the drive to their motel. 'They're still out there, I'm telling you- I figured coming here was just as close as we could get without being spotted.'

'We can't hide forever Dean.' Sam grumbled, 'it's not like you to hide, anyway.'

'Oh excuse me for not wanting to get any closer to the bastards that might just kill you if they find you!' Dean snapped as he turned the car into Main Street. He softened as he saw Sam slump back in his seat. 'Look,' he muttered, wiping a hand down his tired face, 'I know hiding ain't my thing, but we gotta lay low just for a little while longer while we're this close to what happened ...' He shrugged figuring he didn't need to explain any more than that. 'I know it didn't happen near Bobby, but if the trail we leave comes back to him then that's on us, y'know?' He looked across to Sam, who nodded as he tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that he always felt when thinking back to that night.

'Besides, if we came any closer and if- God forbid- something did happen to you?' Dean carried on as he turned into the Motel. 'I'd never forgive myself.' He turned off the ignition after swinging into a parking space. 'Understand?'

'Of course I do, Dean.' Sam replied, opening his door. 'It just feels wrong to hide.'

'Believe me, I hate it too, but if it's between that and watching some hunters bent on revenge giving you a pounding and me not being able to stop it, I'd take hiding under a rock every time.' He grinned as Sam gave a small smile.

'And besides, we're leaving in the morning. We're goin to New York for a couple days... Found a gig that might be good.'

'Oh really?' Sam replied, nose wrinkled as the rain still came down. They made their way to their motel amid a barrage of water and thunder as the storm really rolled in.

'Yup. Possible Wendigo in some woods.' Dean shrugged. 'Killed some hikers, figured we could deal with it and then have some downtime for a couple days?'

'Downtime?' Sam felt his heart lighten. 'Sounds good.'

'Great!' Dean grinned, hooking the key to their room from his inner jacket pocket. He paused, something hard falling into the pit of his stomach as he went to put it in the door. 'Sammy, go back to the car and wait for me there.' He whispered, voice dark.

'What?' Sam replied, instantly alert. 'Dean?'

'Go back to the car. Now.' Dean repeated in a hard voice. He quickly fumbled with the key, replacing it with a handgun from his waistband. He always locked their motel doors, and they had been out all day- the door was now ajar, with the room beyond in pitch dark.

Sam stepped back, letting logic in. 'Maybe the maid came in or-'

'Sam I won't tell you again.' Dean replied, for he had now caught a smell that brought him back to his youth with a horrible jolt. Something he hadn't smelled in years- a certain brand of gun cleaning solution that only men of a certain generation and of a certain profession used. He looked across at Sam with hard eyes. 'I'll come back down in a minute.'

'Dean, I-' The edge in Dean's look made him quell his protestations, however, and as he turned to head back down to the Impala-if only to make Dean feel better- he came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

'Dean.' He muttered, and in that one word Dean knew something was up. He turned, lip curling in anger as he saw a man in a battered black coat pointing a gun at his brother's head. He didn't recognise the guy, but he looked seasoned, and that made Dean very worried. And very angry.

'I'd put that down if I were you, Winchester.' He growled, motioning Dean's handgun, which was aimed directly at the man's chest. 'Unless you wanna see your brother's brains over the wall?'

'You try it, pal.' Dean spat, finger itching on the trigger. 'Make my day- but I swear to you, you'll be dead before you even get a chance to squeeze that trigger.

'I don't think you understand the trouble you guys are in-' the man clicked the safety off his gun, the noise making Sam wince. 'We know who you are.' His blue eyes narrowed in anger. 'We know what you've done.' He lip curled as he fought with his emotions. 'And we don't forgive easily...' He finished, eyes turning steely.

'Wait!' Dean yelled, his gun disabled and moved out of range in seconds. 'If you make one move on him I swear to god I'll-'

'You'll what?' A deep voice from his side asked. Dean turned to find a shadowy figure coming out of their motel room, his body swathed in darkness- before either Winchester could react the man's fist came out of nowhere. Dean went down hard, caught totally off guard by a punch to his temple that made his head explode in pain and his ears ring. He hit the sodden wooden decking of the motel, a panicked cry from Sam ringing in his ears as darkness misted in his eyes. 'Sammy..' He groaned as he felt blood run down his cheek. A vicious kick to his stomach rolled him off the decking and onto wet grass. He clutched at his stomach as rain fell on his face, stinging his eyes as he saw Sam tackling the guys. Seconds later and he was down to, and Dean felt his world darken around him. 'Sammy...' He whispered thickly through racking coughs, before consciousness finally left him as another peal of thunder shattered the night around them.


End file.
